10/5/17
Mal never came. He called, said he was sorry, but the Circus is battling for the fate of the world or some nonsense and he wished things were different.
Bullshit, I’m sure. I should have known better than to trust anyone else to help me. Of course he doesn’t want to be around me, living with this monster has turned me into a monster.
I’ve been in bed for days with salt surrounding me. Big chunks of rock salt sprinkled over my sheets, digging into my skin, a salt line around the bed, and clutching boxes and bags and jars of it like I‘m a kid and they are my favorite stuffed animals. When I get up, I take a box with me. My floors are gritty with the stuff. August winces as he follows me, flying over small patches or scattered lines quickly, navigating around bigger, more solid spots.
He wails, beseeching me to stop. And I give him an ultimatum, stop trying to steal my energy and I’ll clean up the salt. But he won’t relent and neither will I.
Today I drew the Three of Wands. I’m so confused. August can’t be self reliant. Not while he still haunts this earth. And I can’t get rid of him. Many are the days I scream “All is lost” into my pillow. Many are the nights I listen to the specter shuffling around in the dark.
